Beth and I went out on the motorcycle to a new sushi bar tonight. (Well, new to us — it’s apparently been there for years.) Good stuff, we’ll be back. At the end of the feast I told the chef I wanted one more piece of sushi and asked him to choose for me. I do this frequently and the results are mixed. I’ve had sushi chefs give me some really weird shit this way, but tonight I scored big-time. He made me something I’d never had before: seared toro soaked in soy sauce.

Oh. My. God.

It’s 1:20 a.m. and I’m in boxers and dirty socks, but if the phone rang right now with him asking if I wanted another piece, I’d be out the door like a shot. I wouldn’t even stop for shoes.

Before they gave us the check, Beth and I guessed what the total would be. Beth guessed $45, I guessed $134. Total: $140. Ouch!

But, man, that seared toro… I’m drooling now. Poor and drooling.

You so want to be me.